


Dancing Lessons

by Starlitt



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Day 2: Dancing, F/F, FW2021.1, Fleurmione Week 2021, Romance, my first fic!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-24 14:53:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30073944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starlitt/pseuds/Starlitt
Summary: Hermione is not good at dancing. Fortunately, Fleur Delacour is willing to give her a lesson.Fleurmione Week 2021.1 - Day 2: Dancing
Relationships: Fleur Delacour/Hermione Granger
Comments: 13
Kudos: 82
Collections: Fleurmione Week 2021.1





	Dancing Lessons

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Fleurmione Week! My entry for Fleurmione Week 2021.1 - Day 2: Dancing.

As the rest of the Beauxbatons contingent began to eat after their journey from France, Fleur was held transfixed by the bushy-haired object of her attention.

 _Mate!_ crooned Fleur’s heart.

Gabrielle pulled her elder sister’s sleeve.

« _What’s wrong with you, Fleur?_ » asked Gabrielle.

« _Wrong? Everything is right, Gabby! I have found my mate!_ » beamed Fleur. The Veela at the table exploded into congratulations for Fleur. It was such a momentous occasion for one of their own to find their _Chosen_ , their _Mate_ . « _I am going to go talk to her!_ » exclaimed Fleur, before she stood up and walked to the table at which her mate, _Hermione_ , she overheard, sat.

As Fleur locked eyes with Hermione’s (she’s so adorable, thought Fleur), all thought abandoned her brain, and she scrambled for something, anything, to say.

“Excuse me, are you wanting ze bouillabaisse?” asked Fleur. What. No. Why? Fleur despaired. Her first interaction with her mate should have involved warm weather, and gifts, and perhaps dryads serenading them. Not _stealing her mate’s food_.

“Yeah, have it,” said the boy sitting beside her Hermione. Fleur did not break eye contact with her chosen. It was like they were having a staring contest. Or perhaps they were caught in each other’s eyes? Fleur, at the very least, she knew, was certainly captured in the brunette’s warm brown eyes.

Searching for a reason to stay, to spend more time here, with her mate, _Hermione_ , Fleur scrambled for words.

“You ‘ave finished wiz it?”

“Yeah. Yeah, it was excellent,” said some nearby red haired boy.

Hermione scowled. It was adorable, thought Fleur.

Fleur felt a spike of doubt penetrate through her mind. Did Hermione have a good impression of her? Did she scowl because of Fleur?

Fleur retreated. With dignity, of course.

« _So, how did it go?_ » asked another of the nearby Veela.

Fleur looked down at the bowl of bouillabaisse in her hands, baffled that she had somehow gone from introducing herself to her mate to asking to borrow her soup. Despite this, Fleur broke into a grin.

« _It went wonderfully. Now, I just have to figure out how to introduce myself._ » 

Gabrielle looked up at her sister, and wondered how people possibly thought that her sister was well put-together.

* * *

“I never knew it was possible to trip so spectacularly, Hermione!” gasped Ginny through peals of laughter. Hermione made disgruntled noise as she crossed her arms and glared at the redhead.

“Oh, shut up,” said Hermione, as she smacked Ginny on the arm as the pair walked towards the Great Hall for lunch.

“It’s just that you’re _Hermione Granger_. I’m pretty sure this is the first time you’ve ever failed a lesson, even if it was just a dancing lesson,” said Ginny. A horrified look crossed Hermione’s face.

“You don’t think we were being _graded_ , were we?” worried Hermione. “What must Professor McGonagall think?”

“Relax, ‘Mione,” said Ginny. “Dancing’s supposed to be _fun,_ ” she cajoled.

“Nothing about this is either relaxing or fun, Ginny,” said Hermione, panicked. “No matter how much I practice, I can’t do it! At this rate, I’ll still be a mess by the Yule Ball! And then what will happen Ginny? And then what!”

Ginny did not respond to Hermione, but looked over her shoulder. Hermione turned slowly, bringing a blonde Beauxbatons student into her field of view. Fleur Delacour, the Champion from Beauxbatons. Apart from the usual gaggle of other Beauxbatons students and mindless boys with glazed-over eyes.

Hermione opened her mouth to attempt to contextualize her conversation with Ginny, but something happened to her throat, and no sound would come out.

“I could not ‘elp but over’ear zat you were ‘aving trouble with ze dancing,” began Fleur. Hermione scowled at her, still unable to vocalize a word. “I wanted to ask if, per’aps, you would like to practice in ze Beauxbatons carriage? We ‘ave a studio space, which I do not zink you ‘ave in ze castle.”

Hermione moved her jaw up and down, but her vocal cords would not engage. Hermione looked to Ginny for help.

“She’d love to, but we really have to get going. Maybe tomorrow night?”said Ginny. Hermione shot her a cutting glare. Ginny grinned at her. “Anyways, we really do have to go. Nice meeting you! Bye!” said Ginny as she dragged a somewhat disgruntled Hermione along.

* * *

After lunch, Hermione cornered Ginny in the girls’ dormitory. 

“Ginny Weasley, why on Earth did you say that?” exclaimed Hermione. “Didn’t you hear the things that she was saying? Trying to get me to take remedial lessons as if I’m… I’m… I don’t even know! But oh, it grates on me, Ginny!” she ranted. “And I’m _sure_ you’ve heard her say these things too! Which is why I’m baffled as to why you decided to _schedule me to spend additional time in her highly irritating presence_!”

Ginny looked at her, amused.

“ _Hermione_. I understand that Harry and Ron are completely oblivious to their surroundings, but it’s _painfully_ _obvious_ that you both have a thing for each other,” bemoaned Ginny, teasingly. “I couldn’t stand another moment of all that awkward sexual tension. You wouldn’t put me through more of that, would you Hermione? Your best friend?”

Hermione felt her face heat up.

“ _Ginny_ ,” she sputtered. “I- you- I-”

Ginny looked to Hermione curiously.

“That was the other thing! You couldn’t talk to her! You always have something to say. There’s _definitely_ sexual tension involved,” said Ginny.

Hermione worked her jaw for a moment, waiting for her voice to work again.

“ _Ugh_ , she probably thinks I’m another one of those idiots that becomes brain-dead around her,” complained Hermione. 

“ _Ha_! I _knew_ it! You _like_ Fleur!” said Ginny, triumphantly. “So does that mean you’ll go do dance lessons with Fleur? Merlin knows, you need it, Hermione,” Ginny teased.

“ _Fine_ ,” said Hermione.

Ginny’s expression softened. 

“And Hermione, you’re probably one of the least brain-dead people I know. _But_ ,” said Ginny, with a teasing expression, “it wasn’t exactly a good look.” 

Hermione paused for a moment.

“Ginny, you know how I had… problems fitting in when I first came to Hogwarts,” Hermione began. Ginny nodded. “Well, as one might imagine, I had similar problems when I went to Muggle primary school. When I was younger, I was really shy, and I had this… thing where my voice stopped working when I got too nervous, and I was so nervous to meet new people, that sometimes I’d just stop being able to talk. When my parents heard about this, they took me to see a therapist.”

At Ginny’s confused look, Hermione clarified, “Oh, that’s a muggle word for a healer for minds. Anyways, I ended up learning some coping strategies, and I had honestly thought that it had gone away. I mean, it hasn’t been a problem for me for years, and then it just crept up on me. I _have_ laid off the exercises lately, to be fair, but…” Hermione trailed off.

Hermione felt herself being hugged by Ginny. As the hug ended, Hermione noticed Ginny grinning like a lunatic.

“Oh, you’ve got it _bad_ , Hermione. You’re adorable, but you’ve got it _bad_.”

* * *

Hermione found herself secluded in a studio within the Beauxbatons carriage with Fleur. “Is it, ah, just us practicing tonight?” asked Hermione.

“Oui,” said Fleur. “Zese dances are more popular at Beauxbatons, so naturally, many of ze students are more well-practiced at zem.” Fleur hesitated. “I also zought zat you may prefer a more, err, private setting to learn in?”

Hermione blushed, remembering her clumsy attempts at dancing with the other Gryffindors.

“That’s…very considerate of you. Thank you, Fleur,” said Hermione. “So, um, how should we proceed?” she asked.

The corners of Fleur’s mouth curved upwards. 

“Well, ‘Ermione, shall we begin wiz ze waltz?”

Fleur demonstrated the steps beside Hermione, who copied Fleur’s movements. Her steps were awkward and halting.

“This still feels awkward,” said Hermione, frustration tinging her voice. “I just don’t know what I’m doing wrong,” she admitted. Which hurt. Hermione was a consummate student, and it irritated her to be outdone by her peers.

Fleur looked at Hermione. 

“Per’aps it will come more easily when you are dancing wiz a partner?” Fleur held out her hand to Hermione.

Hermione had danced with Harry during her practice with the other Gryffindors, and it had not improved her skill one iota. She opened her mouth to tell Fleur that maybe they should just call it a day, but when she looked into Fleur’s warm cerulean eyes, her throat caught unexpectedly, and she could not refuse.

Of course, Hermione reasoned, Fleur _was_ her teacher, and Hermione was nothing if not an excellent student.

Hermione grasped Fleur’s outstretched hand, and awkwardly stepped closer to her instructor. 

“You will be doing ze following when you are at ze ball, oui?” asked Fleur. Hermione nodded her head. “Zen we should practice zat way. Place your left ‘and on my shoulder, and I will ‘old your waist.”

Hermione put her hand on Fleur’s shoulder, and felt the blonde rest her hand on her waist. Hermione felt a jolt in her chest, and her eyes darted around nervously before settling on Fleur’s eyes, which glinted in amusement. Hermione blushed, and looked down. 

It’s just a lesson, thought Hermione. Don’t make it weird.

“Well, let’s try this,” Hermione said. 

The pair began slowly, each girl’s steps unsure and searching. Fleur recovered her graceful movements first.

“Per’aps you would be more comfortable if we danced a little closer? Like zis,” said Fleur, as she stepped towards Hermione.

Hermione stiffened in Fleur’s embrace. She was somewhat glad that Fleur didn’t have a very good view of her face, which she was sure was tomato red at that point.

Despite this, the dancing _was_ getting easier, thought Hermione. It was easy to forget what she was doing. To slow her racing thoughts to a stop, and to just be in the moment, dancing in Fleur’s arms.

Fleur. She was warm, and her touches radiated needles of inexplicable _sensation_ and made Hermione feel electrically nervous and utterly calm at the same time.

This is nice, thought Hermione.

Fleur’s hand shifted on Hermione’s waist, sending another jolt into Hermione’s chest.

“You should look into your partner’s eyes, when you are dancing with them, ma choupette,” said Fleur.

Hermione looked up into Fleur’s bright blue eyes. Fleur’s face tinged with pink for a moment. 

“That’s much better, ma chérie,” said Fleur with a grin.

With a gesture of her wand towards the corner of the room, a slow waltz drifted through the air.

They danced. Hermione could not, when asked by Ginny the next morning, recall exactly how long they had danced like that. It felt like an instant, and an eternity. It was a moment in time in which Hermione’s stream of consciousness stilled; an age in which her mind was utterly immersed in the moment.

Hermione looked up at the blonde, her placid mind studying Fleur’s face. Her eyes. Her cheeks. Her lips. Their faces were close as they danced. Their noses were almost able to touch. Hermione felt her face flush, but she did not move away. Hermione could not tell who closed the distance first. One moment she was dancing with Fleur. The next moment, their feet had stilled as Hermione felt soft lips against her own, gently pressing in.

Hermione felt a sound escape herself, as Fleur deepened the kiss. Hermione felt Fleur press her against a wall. How did they even get to a wall? Had they been moving all that time? Hermione found that she did not particularly care about these questions at that particular moment, and pressed herself into Fleur.

An indeterminate while later, the music ran out, and Fleur pulled away from Hermione. Hermione stayed where she was for a minute, while her mind slowly rebooted into some state of consciousness approaching, but not quite attaining, her usual nimble thoughts. It was like waking up, and Hermione’s thoughts were still weighted with the memory of being in Fleur’s arms. Of kissing her.

“Well,” said Hermione, slowly. “That was some lesson.”

Fleur’s face shifted with a series of emotions Hermione couldn’t quite identify, before she settled on a complex expression.

“Oui. You danced quite well, ‘Ermione,” said Fleur. After all, Hermione Granger, the Brightest Witch of Her Age, was a consummate student.

A reckless impulse crossed Hermione’s mind.

“Although,” began Hermione, her face reddening, “I’m not as, er, _well acquainted_ with some of the other dances I’ve read about as I would like.” Hermione looked down, then returned her gaze to Fleur’s eyes.

Fleur smirked.

“Well zen,” said Fleur, with a glint in her eye, “I will just ‘ave to give you anuzzer lesson, it seems. And I ‘ave so much more to teach you.”

Hermione grinned at the blonde. “Well, you should know that I’m known to be quite an eager student.”


End file.
